All One Has
by ssaharadesert
Summary: Pre-Series. A miscommunication between the brothers leads to each trying to save the other. Major Hurt!Sam, Protective!Worried!Dean, Slight Worried!John, Worried!Bobby
1. Chapter 1

**Title: All One Has**

**Author: ssaharadesert **

**Summary: Pre-Series. A miscommunication between the brothers leads to each trying to save the other. Hurt!Sam, Protective!Worried!Dean, Slight Worried!John, Worried!Bobby**

**Regular Text: Regular Story**

_**Italic Text: Flashback**_

**Hey guys! It's been a few years since I've posted a story :( but then this little thing called the Supernatural fandom consumed my life, and the rest is history! **

**Like seriously though. Jared Padalecki can not get any cuter than in the first few seasons. Aaaaand speaking of that, I haven't watched past mid-season three, so if something doesn't line up with the canon, that's why! **

**Lastly, never fret my lovelies! This story is completely finished! Yes, you heard (read?) that right! It's completely written AND edited! Whoo-hoo! That means there is no feasible way I can leave you hanging mid-story! :D **

**PS The regular storyline starts on a Saturday, and the ****_Italic storyline _****starts on the previous Wednesday. Hope that makes sense! **

**Without further ado, I present to you...Chapter 1 :P **

"Hey, Sam, Dad says we're heading out pretty quick." Dean said, snorting when his little brother ignored him in favor of the book he was reading.

"Sam." Dean chucked a pillow at his brother, laughing at the pitiful face Sam made when his book was knocked out his hands, hair askew.

"I heard you, jerk." Sam grumbled, reaching down to grab his book.

"Bitch." Dean said without thinking, "You gonna be alright by yourself for a couple of days?"

Sam rolled his eyes, "No, Dean, I'm not. Because I've _never_ stayed home alone before."

Dean mussed Sam's hair as soon as the younger boy straightened it out, "You've been sick for the past week. I don't want to come back to find out that you keeled over in your sleep."

Sam knew Dean was joking, but there was a hint of truth in his older brother's voice. Dean was genuinely concerned that the nasty bout of flu Sam was just getting over with would return.

Dean had tried to reason with their father, to let them wait a few more days before taking off to make sure that Sam really was better, but John had countered that argument by reminding his oldest that the victims were counting on them to find and kill a wild kelpie.

Dean was looking forward to a break from the cramped apartment, though not at the expense of Sam.

It had not been a fun week for either Winchester, though it had arguably been worse for the youngest.

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_"Sam, time to leave for school!" Dean said cheerily, pulling the covers off his brother's bed. Sam groaned, curling into a, if even possible, smaller ball. _

_John was already gone, his room dark, door slightly open. The older man had instilled in the boys that it was the safest way to leave a door, to allow for quick and silent passage. _

_"C'mon, Sam, you're going to be late, and you're going to make me late for work." Dean said, poking his brother. _

_His fifteen-year-old brother peeked at him, and Dean frowned when he saw how tired and ragged Sam's face was. _

_"You feeling okay, dude?" _

_"Fantastic." Sam moaned, "Leave me alone, I have to get ready." _

_Dean shrugged, deciding if Sam wanted to be a bitch about it, Dean would just leave him be. That plan was quickly abandoned when Sam attempted to get up, and promptly fell over. _

_"Shit, Sammy!" Dean said, kneeling by his brother, "What happened?" _

_"Got…dizzy." Sam buried his head into his arms with a groan. _

_Dean placed one hand on his brother's forehead, brushing aside too long chestnut hair, "You feel warm. I don't think you should go to school today." _

_Sam groaned again, but Dean felt like that had to do more with missing school instead of pain. _

_"C'mon, let's get you back in bed with some medicine, and kick this thing's ass while it's not too bad." Dean encouraged, helping his lanky brother back into the crappy bed. The apartment they were renting wasn't the worst either had seen, but it certainly wasn't the greatest, as it came complimentarily with peeling wallpaper, dirty furniture and beds with the springs popping through the mattress._

_"Dean," Sam sighed, coughing a little, "You haveta go to work?" _

_Dean couldn't help but smile at the miserable look on Sam's face, "Sorry, kid, I have to keep this job that's feeding your sorry ass." _

_Sam made a face, "When will you be back?" _

_"I don't know, probably around five or so. Think you can manage for eight hours?" _

_"Dad won't be back?" _

_"Doubt it. He's probably at Bobby's, and that's a good five hours away. They're researching a hunt. We probably won't see him for a couple of days." _

_Sam nodded, eyes already slipping shut. _

_"Uh, don't even think about, Sammy." Dean admonished, "You need drugs before you can go back to sleep." _

_Sam made a noise of complaint, and Dean had no trouble translating it, as he had been learning the language of his brother his whole life, "I'm always going to be able to call you Sammy, Sammy." _

_One hazel eye glared at him from where Sam had his face buried in the crook of his arm. Dean held out two aspirins in response, with a glass of water in his other hand, "I'm going to leave you the bottle and some water here, but you can't take any more of these for six hours, unless you want to fry that geeky brain of yours." _

_"I'm not a child, Dean," Sam mumbled, downing the pills before quickly curling up into a ball, coughing when the pills irritated his sore throat. _

_Dean hoped that is little brother would sleep most, if not all, of the time he was gone. Regardless, he knew he would spend his whole day worrying over the kid, who he hated to see in any kind of pain or suffering. _

_He had to do some things before he left, which would make him late, but his job came second to Sam. Everything did. _

_First, he felt the kid's forehead again, noting that it wasn't a bad temperature, but it was definitely a fever. He'd have to remember to pick up a new thermometer to replace the one that had broke a few weeks ago, along with some ginger ale, Gatorade and other essentials that Dean had down pat when Sam was ill. _

_Second, he put everything Sam would need within his reach, cell phone included. He was going to make sure his was on him at all times in case Sam called while he was at work. _

_Lastly, he tripled checked the salt lines and other runes around the house, knowing that if something happened while Sam wasn't at his best, Dean would never forgive himself. Then, with one last glance at his sleeping little brother, who looked about five years younger, Dean left the apartment. _

"I'll be fine, Dean." Sam repeated, flipping his book back open, "I have all this homework from the days I missed, I probably won't even notice you're gone."

"Haha," Dean deadpanned, "You better still be in this apartment when we get back, or I'm going to kick your ass till next week and back."

"Sure, _Mom_. Am I allowed to leave for school?"

"Smartass. It's the weekend."

"How about groceries, then?" Sam continued, enjoying the irritated look on his brother's face, "Or if a really hot girl invites me over to her place…?"

"Oh, don't even think about it, nerd." Dean said, "You are WAY too young to even, I mean, when I was your age…"

"Don't be serious, Dean." Sam laughed, "When you were my age, you'd already had twice as many girlfriends as me!"

Dean had to admit that he was forgetting that Sam wasn't a child who needed constant looking after because, the second Dean took his eye off of him, he was running straight into trouble.

"Well, uh, just use protection." Dean said weakly, shaking his head, "God, only you, Sam…"

Sam grinned at him, and Dean was reminded about how much he loved this dorky kid, even if he could get annoying at times.

"Are you ready, Dean?" John appeared in the doorway of the boys' shared bedroom, "We should get going. Bobby wants us to stop by on our way."

"Yes, sir." Dean mussed Sam's hair one last time, "See you soon, Sammy."

"It's _Sam_, jerk."

"Whatever, bitch." Dean slipped out behind their father with one last grin at his younger brother. Sam rolled his eyes.

"You feeling better, tiger?"

"Sure, Dad." Sam reassured his father, "I'm fine, now."

"Good to hear. I think you scared the shit out of your brother."

"Only because he's an overbearing mother hen." Sam snorted, and John smiled, "Sometimes, I think he's even worse than…well, you know."

Sam nodded, understanding, "You should get going. See you soon, Dad."

"Call if anything happens."

"I will, sir."

John looked around one last time, calling over his shoulder as he left, "And for the love of all things holy, keep those salt lines fresh and unbroken!"

"Bye!" Sam called back in clear exasperation. He had been staying alone for up to several days in a row since he was twelve, and only twice had disaster ever struck. Dean would break anything in the nearest reach if those times were ever mentioned, and John would stiffen in barely disguised anger. Sam had no intention of letting something that upset his family so much happen again.

Especially since Dean had been so worried the past week.

**So what do you think? Only the first half of the story will have the flashback scenes, and man, is Sam in for some major whump. That poor kid, but I have no regrets. Protective Dean is my favorite Dean, so if I have to beat up the younger Winchester, so be it! **

**Reviews are sugar and spice and everything nice! **


	2. Chapter 2

**Title: All One Has**

**Author: ssaharadesert **

**Summary: Pre-Series. A miscommunication between the brothers leads to each trying to save the other. Hurt!Sam, Protective!Worried!Dean, Slight Worried!John, Worried!Bobby**

**Regular Text: Regular Storyline**

**_Italic Text: Flashback Storyline_**

**Here's another chapter! And THANK YOU to all the people who reviewed and favorited! I'm still getting used to how to use this site again, so bare with me as I try to answer all your awesome reviews! **

**So here's a little more hurt!Sam, some caring!Dean for you guys :P**

**PS It starts with the flashback, just so ya know! **

_Dean hurried out of work as soon as the boss cleared him. He was a dishwasher at a local diner. Of all the jobs he held the past three years, this had to be one of the worst. He almost couldn't wait to move on, just to get away from the womanizing boss and his cougar wife, except that meant uprooting Sam once again, and Dean didn't know how many more times he could see the disappointed look on his little brother's face as he was forced to drop all his friends, soccer, and whatever else Sam found interesting in school. _

_Sam hadn't called once during Dean's workday, and the older brother didn't know if that was a good or bad thing. It could mean Sam was just sleeping, or it could mean the kid was sick enough that he couldn't reach his phone. Either way, Dean walked back to the apartment as fast as he could. _

_Just like Dean expected, his father's truck was nowhere to be seen. The Impala had been passed on as soon as Dean turned seventeen, and John could get enough credit card scams to pay for the new vehicle. _

_"Sam?" He called out lowly as soon as he entered the apartment, relieved to see that the apartment door was still locked, and the salt line undisturbed. _

_Nothing was out of place since Dean left that morning…except one little brother. His bed was empty. Dean started back out into the living room when he heard a whimper from the bathroom. _

_"Oh, Sammy." Dean sighed when he found his little brother curled on the cold bathroom tile, shivering and pale. _

_"D'n." Sam tried to get up, and Dean hastened to stop him, "Don't even think about it, kiddo. I'm going to take your temperature before you do anything." _

_Dean had gone during his lunch break to pick up the needed supplies, and they were still in the plastic bags he had carried them home in. It took only a few minutes to wrestle with the annoying plastic container, but when Dean returned, Sam was vomiting into the toilet. _

_Dean dropped the thermometer onto the sink as he knelt by his brother and rubbed his back in comfort. _

_Sam coughed roughly, still shivering from the chilly temperature in the bathroom. Dean knew enough first aid that the trembling alone would make Sam nauseous more than anything. The older brother quickly slipped out of his jacket and wrapped it securely around his brother. _

_Sam slumped back against the tub as soon as he was done, lazily flushing the toilet and resting his head on his arms. _

_"Here," Dean offered a glass of water, steadying his brother's hand when it seemed too shaky to hold the glass. Sam downed it quickly enough that Dean realized that this obviously wasn't the first time Sam had gotten sick; he was dehydrated. _

_Dean carded his hand through Sam's sweaty hair, "Sorry, man, but I gotta take your temp. Then we'll get you back in bed." _

_Sam shook his head slowly, and Dean realized that Sam still felt sick to his stomach, "We'll get some more drugs in you then. Did you take any while I was gone?" _

_Another shake, and Dean placed the thermometer in Sam's hand before getting up in search of the drugs. _

_Based on how the bottle of aspirin was on the floor, Dean could only assume that Sam had attempted to get to the drugs, but knocked them over instead. A pang hit him, that he had been at work while Sam struggled to even take the proper medicine to help him sleep. _

_Sam had his head buried in his arms again, a move Dean recognized as his way of hiding his pain and suffering from everyone, with the thermometer in his white-knuckle grip. _

_"C'mon, Sammy, you know better. If you're going to upchuck, you'll feel better if you just do it instead of holding it in." _

_Sam made a small sound that was a mixture of a moan and snort, and Dean took that to mean that he thought Dean was being obnoxious. _

_"So, what's the damage?" Dean asked, as Sam's temperature had already cleared off the thermometer's screen. _

_Sam mumbled something._

_"Didn't quite catch that, Sammy." _

_Sam unburied his head long enough to say, in a rough voice, "101.8." _

_Dean grimaced. It definitely wasn't the worst it could be, but Dean had no delusions that it would get worse before it got better, and anything over 102 degrees was guaranteed misery for Sam. _

_"Okay, kid. Take these, and try not to throw them up." _

_"Deean." Sam drew out his brother's name, glaring at him, "You're going to make me sick again." _

_Dean grinned, "That's the point, genius. You'll feel better." _

_Sam shook his head in denial, but took the pills, "God. I feel terrible." _

_"Did you sleep at all while I was gone?" _

_"A little, I think." Sam grimaced, "I want to sleep right now." _

_"I bet you do. Wait a little until the aspirin kicks in, and then we'll get you into bed. Anything other than your stomach hurt?" _

_"Not really." Sam's faced paled quickly, eyes widening, "Dean." _

_Dean cursed under his breath. As much as he wanted Sam to feel better, if he threw up now, the aspirin would go with it, and Dean wouldn't be able to give him anymore without the fear of overdosing the tall but incredibly skinny kid. _

_"Hang in there, kiddo." Dean rubbed Sam's back in comfort, trying to distract him, "Did I tell you what happened at work today? Funniest thing. So this guy comes in the diner, and the diner was completely open, but we had no costumers, so he thought we were closed, and long story short, he orders this chili soup thing, it ended up all over the floor…" _

_Dean realized his mistake as soon as he spoke, as Sam launched towards the toilet, "Sorry, Sammy." _

_"It's okay," Sam moaned when he could, "God…" _

_Dean squeezed the back of Sam's neck, letting the kid lean against him when he was done. _

_"Drink all of this," Dean commanded, "And then bed." _

_Sam looked up at him with tired eyes, "Kay, Dean." _

_Dean sighed affectionately as he realized how much Sam trusted him to take care of him. Dean never doubted his ability to make his brother feel better, and right now was no different. However, it still didn't help seeing Sam shivering, even with Dean's jacket, while his face was sweaty and too warm to the touch. _

_Sam downed another glass of water, losing what little color he had gained in the past few minutes. Dean could only assume his stomach was still rebelling against anything and everything, including water. _

_Dean hoped that sleep would be an easy fix to that problem._

_"Up we go." Dean said, arm wrapped tightly around Sam. He noticed the younger Winchester close his eyes as soon as they were vertical, and Sam leaned heavier into his grasp._

_"Dizzy?" Dean asked quietly as he helped Sam towards their shared bedroom. _

_Sam nodded an infinitesimal amount, "Head hurts." _

_Dean laid the kid down as soon he as could, "I'll be right here, kiddo. Just try to get some sleep." _

_Dean layered some extra blankets when he noticed that Sam was still trembling from being in the bathroom for so long, and sat on his bed, content to sit vigil over his brother for as long as he needed him to._

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Before Sam realized it, it was dark out and Dean was calling his cell phone. Laughing as he thought of his older brother's expression if he were to find out that Sam had spent the past day just reading—it had been a good book!—Sam picked up the phone, "Yeah?"

"How you feeling?" Dean asked, and Sam snorted, "How did I know that would be the first thing you would ask?"

Sam could almost hear Dean roll his eyes, "Just answer the question, bitch."

"Don't be a jerk. I'm fine." Sam felt no need to mention the pounding in his head.

"Did you eat?"

"Contrary to popular belief, I do know how to take care of myself, and I am not a masochist."

"You must be feeling better if you're sounding like such a nerdy geek again."

"I had some microwave pasta," Sam lied, "And trust me, it tasted like a five star meal after what you've been feeding me."

He would eat as soon as he was off the phone with Dean. He had just been caught up in his book, that's why he didn't realize he was hungry. Although, if he had to admit it to himself, his stomach was still uneasy at the thought of food.

"Your head feel better?"

"_Dean!_ Honest to God, I'm fine. Stop being so worried."

"Dean Winchester never worries," Dean laughed off his concerns, "Fine. Just letting you know that Dad and I are starting the hunt."

"Still think it's a kelpie?"

"Bobby is suspicious of the pattern, but yeah. It's pretty consistent with what we know about kelpies."

"Good luck. Dad's probably ready to get going, it's dark out."

"Yeah. I'll call you when we're done." Dean said, "And call me _immediately_ if anything happens, you hear? I don't care if we're hunting or not, _call me_."

Dean was well aware that Sam had some reservations about calling either his father or his brother while they were hunting, for fear that that would lead to either getting hurt in some way.

"Yeah, yeah. Hurry up before Dad kicks your ass."

Dean hung up, shaking his head fondly. He didn't know what he would do without his little brother.

As much as the flu sucked, Dean was also worried about the reappearance of Sam's migraines this past week. When he was younger until he was about ten or so, he used to get migraines about once or twice a year. They always sucked, but it had been a while since he had one. Dean hoped that this didn't mean he would start getting them again.

**Oh noes! Poor Sammy :( **

**I'll probably have the next chapter up later today, just because it should ****_really _****be at the end of this chapter for it to make the most sense, but I didn't want to post one MASSIVE chapter, and have the rest be itty bitty chapters. **

**So if where this leaves off feels strange, the next chapter should clear it up! **

**Thanks! **


	3. Chapter 3

**Title: All One Has**

**Author: ssaharadesert **

**Summary: Pre-Series. A miscommunication between the brothers leads to each trying to save the other. Major Hurt!Sam, Protective!Worried!Dean, Slight Worried!John, Worried!Bobby**

**Regular Text: Regular Storyline**

**_Italic Text: Flashback Storyline_**

**Hello again! Two chapters today, yay!**

**So, remember how I was saying that I am still getting used to this lovely site again? Yeah...I forgot that the formatting can be kinda funky. So I've gone back and changed a few things, nothing to do with plot or story, just line breaks and such. So, sorry if it was hard to figure out what was flashback and what wasn't, and all that stuff!**

**This chapter is completely flashback, so it's kinda short :P **

**Tomorrow's chapter will be MUCH longer and EVEN MORE WHUMP OMG 0_o **

**Enjoy, my awesome readers! **

_Sam woke up sometime in the middle of the night, vision blurry. It had been a while, but he recognized the telltale signs of an oncoming migraine. _

_Pounding behind his eyes that felt like it would lead to his head imploding? _

_Check. _

_Shaky quality to his movements that belied how much pain he was actually in, as much as he tried to hide it? _

_Check. _

_Blurry vision, distorted sounds, sensitivity to every sense, including touch? _

_Check. _

_And Sam knew that Dean would want to know. But, even with his unreliable hearing, he could tell Dean was snoring in his bed on the other side of the room. And he knew Dean had been working a lot lately to help pay for everything from rent to hunting supplies. _

_Sam felt terrible that he had been unable to get a job yet. His brother had forbidden it, saying it wasn't necessary since he was still in school, but Sam still felt like he was sapping his family's resources without contributing anything in return. _

_So the least Sam could do is let Dean sleep when he needed it. _

_Sam didn't know how long he laid there, regretting that every remedy he knew of required the use of two legs and a willingness to move. Sam was pretty sure he had neither at the moment. _

_The younger Winchester knew exactly what had brought this migraine on, and he also knew how much it would anger his older brother. They had learned long ago, when Sam's migraines were more common, that the debilitating pain occurred when he didn't eat enough substantial food. _

_And Sam had definitely had been disregarding any and all of the meals the past few days. That, coupled with his dehydration and earlier sickness, made Sam realize that he was lucky that it hadn't happened earlier. _

_Thinking back all those years to when this had happened before had distracted Sam, and he almost could convince himself that it wasn't that bad. _

_Yet his head was feeling like an asshole with a jackhammer was drilling into it, his stomach was swirling uneasily, he couldn't stop shaking, and the only thing that would make him feel better was his big brother. _

_Then, the pain ratcheted up to a higher level of torture, and Sam cried out involuntarily, feeling like he was drowning in the pain, suddenly fearing that something might actually be seriously wrong._

_God, he had forgotten how much migraines sucked. _

_"Sam?" Dean called out sleepily, in tune with his brother even while asleep._

_Sam didn't think he could say another word without dying, so he just tried to stay as still as possible, praying his brother wouldn't go back to sleep. It was selfish, and the guilt just added to Sam's misery, but Sam wanted nothing more than his brother to comfort him. _

_The coughing fit that followed did nothing to help his plan to keep still, but it caught Dean's attention, a mixed blessing._

_"Sammy?" Dean said again, rubbing his eyes. He could tell something was wrong—had his younger brother been coughing like that all night?—but Sam wasn't saying anything, and he didn't want to wake the kid up if he was finally getting some sleep. _

_It wouldn't hurt to check on the fever, at least. Dean groaned as he stood, his muscles stretching, and that's when he noticed that Sam was too tense to be asleep. _

_He leaned closer to Sam's bed to investigate, and recognized the symptoms on display, asking as soft as he could, "Migraine?" _

_Sam didn't dare respond. He was afraid, afraid of doing anything else that would make the pain worse. _

_"S'okay, Sammy, I'm right here. Okay?" Dean was exhausted, but it didn't matter. Sam needed him. His little brother, the most important person in his life, needed him, and because of that, Dean would be willing to give up sleep for the next week. _

_Sam was trembling again, though Dean realized that he wasn't sure if he ever stopped. The older brother had stayed up for two hours, watching Sam fidget in his sleep, before nodding off himself. _

_When Dean rubbed a gentle hand over Sam's neck, he became aware that all Sam's muscles were tightly locked, and the youngest Winchester was sure to be sore tomorrow if he kept it up. _

_"Shh, Sammy, you gotta relax." Dean gently sat on the edge of Sam's bed, "It's just me, okay? I'm just going to shift you a little…" _

_Sam couldn't help but crying out when Dean tried to settle his little brother against his side, even though he knew it would just cause Dean more worry and concern. _

_"Shh," Dean soothed again, and Sam sighed as soon as Dean had him leaning against his older brother, head resting on Dean's thigh, arms tightly wrapped around a pillow. Dean carded a hand through Sam's hair, realizing the fever was still present. And now that Sam was comfortable, Dean couldn't risk moving to fetch the thermometer or aspirin. He wouldn't do that to his younger brother. _

_Dean couldn't help but silently fuming that Sam been allowed to get to this point. Because he knew exactly why Sam had a migraine, and Dean was stunned that he hadn't noticed Sam wasn't eating again. Years ago, it had been common for the stick he called a little brother to ignore food, only eating a granola bar or muffin when Dean forced it in his hand. _

_The older Winchester had blamed himself back then, and he blamed himself now. If he had been doing his job, he would have been making sure Sam was getting three solid meals a day, even if it meant force feeding the kid. _

_He didn't know how much time passed before Sam began to shift again. Dean didn't think his brother ever fell asleep—that would be asking for too much from the universe—but Dean assumed he had been in a state of half-sleep and half-wakefulness._

_But that was no longer the truth. _

_"Dean." Sam said in distress, breathing heavily, coughing when his throat protested his speaking, "Dean!" _

_"It's okay, Sammy," Dean said, first instinct to assure his brother, but unsure of what had changed in the past few minutes, "What's wrong?" _

_"God, it's worse…" Sammy grabbed Dean's pajama pants and squeezed, face pinched in pain. Originally, Sam would have been damned if he cried, but that thought was long gone as one tear slipped down his face, others threatening to follow. _

_Dean had also forgotten how bad Sam's migraines affected him, and had to think for a moment before he remembered what used to work when Sam was almost too young to understand what was going on and why he was in so much pain. _

_"I'm going to set you down," Dean told his brother, unaware of how much Sam was understanding through the pain, "and go get some stuff that'll make you feel better." _

_Sam squeezed his knee once to let him know he understood, and maybe to communicate how much pain he was in once more. _

_Dean slowly got up, but as soon as he was clear of the bed, he raced to gather what he could that would help. He threw his father's makeshift heating pad—a sock filled with rice—into the microwave, grabbed the thermometer, and made it back before the timer on the microwave went off, not wanting even this distant sound to make the migraine worse. _

_The sock was pleasantly warm, maybe even too hot, but Dean didn't want to wait for it to cool down. He entered the room on silent feet, acting as if he was on a hunt. _

_Sam sighed in relief when the heating pad was placed on the back of his neck, some of the tension leaving his body. Then, before his brother could pass completely back into sleep, Dean placed the thermometer in his mouth. _

_It beeped, and Sam flinched slightly, Dean whispering apologies as he pulled it away. 102.2 degrees. _

_Dean nodded. The fever hadn't gone up much, and would likely drop in the coming hours as fevers tended to wane in the morning. _

_Dean sat with his brother again, continuously running a hand through the kid's hair, until he was sure the kid was close to nodding off. The heating pad was cooler than before, but surely still a welcoming weight on the back of his neck, so Dean left it as he made to move back to his own bed. _

_"Thank you," Sam mumbled, the pain still present, but not as all consuming as before. _

_Dean smiled slightly, not bothering to respond because he was sure Sam would value silence over niceties._

_What else were big brothers for, anyway? _

**Awesome Dean is awesome, and Sammy still isn't doing too well. Aww, poor kid. **

**But we'll get to see what they're up to with the hunt in the next chapter! Yay, action!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Title: All One Has**

**Author: ssaharadesert **

**Summary: Pre-Series. A miscommunication between the brothers leads to each trying to save the other. Major Hurt!Sam, Protective!Worried!Dean, Slight Worried!John, Worried!Bobby**

**Regular Text: Regular Storyline**

**_Italic Text: Flashback Storyline_**

**Hey! We get to see some of the present, with a little trouble for Dean and John as they go after the kelpie...**

**Thanks to everyone who's reviewed, favorited, or even read my story so far. I know there hasn't been that much action, but it'll definitely pick up big time in the next few chapters!**

**Oh! And I forgot to mention, Dean is 19, Sam is 15, almost 16. **

"Let's go, Dean." John said, clapping a hand on his elder son's shoulder, "Sooner we get this kelpie, the sooner you can go bother Sam in person."

"Sorry, sir." Dean said, recognizing the humorous tone in his father's voice that meant John thought Dean was overdoing the mother henning.

"You remember how to kill a kelpie?" John quizzed his son. This wasn't Dean's first kelpie, but it had been at least a year, and John wanted his son to be on his toes and well prepared.

"Sure do. Silver bullet to the heart."

"And they react to…?"

"Crosses scare them off." Dean responded easily, "I got this, Dad."

John snorted at his son's eagerness, "You're starting to act like Sam when he's given a new book."

Dean laughed, "I don't think anyone's as excited as that kid when he gets his hands on a new book."

"He has some competition." John deadpanned, but with a twinkle in his eye, "Got your rifle? Good, let's head out."

The two trekked through the woods until the reached the fast flowing river that seemed to be the kelpie's main hunting ground.

John sent Dean off one way while he went the other, hyperaware of every sound in the quiet forest.

The plan was to get on either side of where most of the kills had happened, and slowly circle in, covering every inch of ground, until they found it.

Five minutes passed uneventfully.

Dean made no sounds as he glided through the woods, grateful that it was still autumn, and wasn't so chilly out yet.

Ten minutes.

John began to have his doubts on whether the kelpie was even in the area when he spotted Dean slowly closing in, meaning there weren't that many more places the kelpie could be hiding.

Fifteen minutes.

A small shape moved in the darkness, and John realized it couldn't be Dean, as he saw his son's eyes glinting from a different position. Slowly, he raised his gun, and could only assume Dean was doing the same…

The both fired, two deadly shots that would have killed any kelpie instantly, or at least mortally wounded it.

But that's when they realized Bobby's suspicions were correct.

They weren't hunting a kelpie.

This thing was completely impervious to silver bullets.

And those were the only weapons they'd brought along.

"Run, Dean!" John commanded powerfully, covering his son as Dean began backing up towards what he thought was the way he came.

He soon realized he had gotten turned around when the river appeared behind him.

John glanced over his shoulder at the deep river, "We're going to have to jump." He announced.

Dean looked at him like he was crazy, "Are you serious? Can't we just go around it?"

John dropped his rifle, realizing its uselessness and looked his son dead in the eye, "Dean, I've never seen anything like that being before. And it's not hurt by silver. And I don't know about you, but all I have is silver."

It was a terrible mistake, and John was cursing his own arrogance. If only he'd listened to Bobby Singer, and not been so confident in his own research, if only he'd remembered one of the first lessons he learned when Sam couldn't even walk or talk and Dean could still remember the touch of his mother…

_Always bring a backup weapon in case things aren't what they seem. _

Dean nodded grimly, "Okay."

"You first, I'll follow you. Try to stay away from the edge, because there'll be rocks. But don't go directly into the middle, it'll be fast and rough." John tried his best to summarize what should have been a day of training—why didn't he bother to teach his sons what do in such a circumstance? How could he have overlooked this crucial lesson?—in the space of a few minutes.

"I got it, Dad." Dean seemed nervous, but determined.

"Good, strip all your weapons, we'll come back for them."

Both men, staring warily at where they could see the dark shape shifting through the trees, dropped all their weapons, save those that wouldn't be damaged by the water, on the forest floor.

Dean glanced at the river, and before he could think of any of his concerns—falling, hitting a rock, dying—he jumped.

Not ten seconds later, his father followed, not wanting to land on his son, but as close to him as possible, in that tiny window of time before Dean began drifting downstream.

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Sam stared at his dinner. It looked appealing, or so much as pasta microwave dinners could look. It had Sam's favorites; vegetables, imitation alfredo sauce, and the spiral noodles.

And it completely turned his stomach. He dumped in the trash quickly, before it made him any more nauseous, but the smell still lingered.

Sam knew what he should do. Check for a reappearance of a fever, maybe go get some sleep, definitely not wait up for a call from his brother or father.

Yet, he would do none of these. He grabbed a glass of water and his favorite blanket—the only one without holes, at the moment, therefore making it his favorite—and curled on the couch.

His phone glared at him from where it sat on the makeshift coffee table, or maybe it was just him staring at the tiny device too much, placing too much importance on the timing of the call.

For a kelpie, he estimated that John and Dean should be back at Bobby's by no later than 9:00, maybe 10 if they had problems tracking it down. Then, they would stay the night at Bobby's, it being only an hour from the location of the hunt, before leaving the next day. Or, if they didn't get the kelpie tonight, the schedule would repeat, and the would come home day after tomorrow.

But before all of that, Dean would undoubtedly call Sam. If not because he was worried about Sam being on his own, then because he knew Sam worried about something going wrong on the hunt.

So Sam stared at the phone. And, as if to mock him, it sat.

And Sam, with nothing to do other than think, thought back to two days ago, a day before his fever had officially broke…

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_God, Dean knew he was going to be sore as soon as he moved. Sitting upright for hours at a time last night, even being as young and fit as he was, was still a pain in his ass. Literally. _

_Dean got up and gingerly sat on the edge of Sam's bed, trying not to shift the mattress any more than necessary. _

_And he hated to wake Sammy. He figured it had probably been four o' clock before the migraine had completely passed, leaving both brothers to get some sleep. And now, it was nine o' clock…_

_Shit! Dean had to physically resist jumping out of bed and disturbing Sam. He had work today! And, unless he left this minute, he had no hope of making it even fifteen minutes late. _

_Just the thought of going back to the diner he'd begun to hate, leaving his sick brother alone, just to earn a measly $50—a considerable amount but still not worth Sam's suffering—Dean would have none of it. _

_Slowly slipping away, deciding that calling in sick was the best course of action, for as much as he hated the job, he would still need it for however much longer they stayed, and he didn't want to wake Sam with even the slightest noise. The younger Winchester needed as much sleep as he could get. _

_"This is Mr. Delumo, owner of Chata's Café." _

_"Mr. Delumo, it's Dean Willows. I'm—cough, cough—too sick to come into work today. I feel like I've got some highly contagious disease, like the flu…" _

_Contagion was the magic word, Dean had learned. Mention something that could get the diner shut down by the health department faster than Dean eating a piece of pie, and, like magic, Dean knew he'd be off the hook. _

_"Take all the time you need, Mr. Willows! Please, don't feel like you have to come in at all until you feel better…and call ahead? And get checked out by a doctor before you come back? And maybe the health department?" _

_Dean grinned, thanked his boss, and hung up. Piece of pie…er, cake. And now he was hungry. _

_A light cough from his shared bedroom distracted him. Damn! He was hoping Sam could get in another few hours…_

_But Sam slept on, just shifting in his sleep, face showing discomfort, but it relaxed as soon as Dean put his hand on the younger's shoulder. _

_Dean could tell he still had a light fever, but wouldn't be surprised if it was much lower than last night. Of course, this probably meant it would again go up tonight, before finally breaking tomorrow, if he knew his brother. _

_Sam sighed contentedly in his sleep, and Dean had to hold back a laugh as he imagined what could make Sam so happy…a book, or maybe several. Or, and Dean couldn't help but laugh out loud quietly at the thought, a library. The simplistic things that made his brother happy were a mystery to Dean. _

_Dean wandered around the flat, occasionally checking on his brother, calming him when he got restless, as the older Winchester brother not used to so much freedom in the course of a day. Usually there was training, or cleaning their stockpile of weaponry, or work, or keeping Sam out of trouble…_

_Soon, it was noon, a more optimistic time than Dean could have hoped for Sam to sleep until. _

_"Dean?" _

_Said brother started, having drifted into a mindless state after staring at the same channel on the TV for the past hour. _

_"How you feeling?" He asked as soon as he was in the bedroom doorway, Sam ceasing to try to prop himself up once he saw his brother was still here. _

_"Fine. What's going on?" Sam stared at the clock, "Shouldn't you be at work?" _

_"And miss the fantastic show that is a sleeping Sammy? Not a chance." _

_"It's Sam," Sam emphasized, the effect he was going for somewhat lessened by the fact that he was still coughing after every few sentences. _

_"Aw, you'll be my little Sammy." Dean couldn't help but tease, "Now that you're finally awake, and not drooling into your pillow, I'm going to take your temp, Sleeping Beauty." _

_"You could've waken me if you were going to bitch like this." Sam grumbled. _

_"I'm pretty sure you're the bitch, bitch." Dean said, placing the thermometer in Sam's mouth before he could answer with a snarky comment of his own. _

_Sam ripped the thermometer out of his mouth before Dean could even reach for it and glanced at the temp before shutting it down. Dean, not amused with this, stared at Sam, while the other stared at his hands. _

_"I'll just make you take it again if you don't tell me." Dean said simply, crossing his arms. _

_Sam groaned, rolling over so he was facing away from Dean, "I missed school again, you know." _

_"That's what you're going to be pissy about?" Dean was surprised, but realized, in hindsight, that he shouldn't have been. This was Sam, after all, who would rather cut off his own limb before missing school. _

_"If I promise you that it's a REALLY low grade fever, can I go to my afternoon classes?" Sam asked without facing Dean, though he could tell Sam was fidgeting in his own special way of showing nerves. _

_Dean raised an eyebrow, "Tell me, and we'll see." _

_"No way. You're going to say any temperature is too high, and keep me here." _

_"So why even bother trying?" Dean knew Sam was being serious, but Dean couldn't help but grinning at his brother's pathetic attempts to bargain. _

_Sam flopped over and gave him what Dean had secretly labeled his 'puppy dog eyes', Sam's last hope of convincing Dean to let him go. _

_But Dean thought of how pale and shaky Sam had been not even twelve hours ago, barely conscious from the pain, and shook his head resolutely, "You are staying in that bed." _

_"Dean." Sam stared at him, dangerously close to a pout. _

_"Do you not remember what happened last night?" Dean said, seriously contemplating the mental health of his sibling, and what was so goddamn fascinating about learning that Sam was willing to put it in front of his own personal wellbeing. _

_"Of course I do. It was absolutely miserable." _

_"And you want to risk going through that again _tonight _just because of a few classes?" _

_"Course I don't." Sam looked up sheepishly, "But I don't wanna fail, and I will if I get too far behind." _

_"No way, with a geeky brain like yours." Dean mussed Sam's hair affectionately, "You'll be back to all A's with three days, I bet." He noticed how Sam's eyes were starting to close, "And besides, you probably wouldn't even make the walk to the place, let alone sitting through an entire class, without falling sleep." _

_"Jerk." Sam said sleepily, before he was out like a light. _

_"Bitch." Dean said, because it would've been weird not to say it, even if the recipient of the fond insult was fast asleep._

**Review, please and thank you! :) **


	5. Chapter 5

**Title: All One Has**

**Author: ssaharadesert **

**Summary: Pre-Series. A miscommunication between the brothers leads to each trying to save the other. Major Hurt!Sam, Protective!Worried!Dean, Slight Worried!John, Worried!Bobby**

**Regular Text: Regular Storyline**

**_Italic Text: Flashback Storyline_**

**I am so glad I have so many followers! PEOPLE LIKE THIS STORY, YAY :D **

**You guys are the greatest! I'm pretty sure this is the last chapter with the Flashback sequence, but there could be one more, idk :P**

**Here's a nice, long chapter, enjoy! **

Sam hoped Dean would be back soon. He didn't have a problem staying alone, but that didn't mean he liked it.

Hopefully his older brother would be back before Sunday night, because if he came back Monday, Sam would be at school, and even after classes got out, the younger Winchester was expecting to be drowning in classwork.

As much as loved school, Sam was also looking forward to summer, when he could go back to hunting with his family without also having to focus on school. He had tried to multitask both duties—leading to an experience that Sam never wanted to repeat again—and John and Dean agreed almost unanimously that during the school year, Sam's participation would be kept to a minimum to keep the situation from ever arising again.

Sam shuddered. When it had finally caught up to him, and he had crashed, Dean had been so angry, and as much as Dean tried to convince Sam that the anger wasn't directed at him, Sam still never wanted to see Dean like that again.

It was frightening, and Sam rarely applied that word to his brother. Dean's predisposition lent itself more to words like _overprotective, brave, stubborn, loud_, rather than _frightening_.

Sam glanced at the clock again, a pang of fear and panic hitting him when he realized it was 10:45 and still no word from either family member.

Scenarios, each one worse than the other, played through his head, and Sam began to suspect that his fever was messing with him. Usually, he didn't jump to bad conclusions so quickly.

Then again, Dean usually called at a reasonable time, setting any fears to ease.

Sam debated over calling either family member for another half an hour, knowing if he didn't, he would just sit here and worry until he did.

So he dialed Dean's number.

No answer.

John's cell.

No answer either.

A bad feeling began trickling into his bloodstream as he tried Dean's again.

Sam knew that if they were silencing their phones as he called, or even if they were off, it would still ring through before going to voicemail.

No, both were going straight to voicemail, no dial tone, nothing. And that could only mean one thing; their phones were either destroyed or disconnected. And Sam knew all too well which one was more likely.

His night was about to get much worse than even his last night before the fever broke.

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_Sam slept on and off throughout the day, only occasionally complaining about the classes missed. _

_Dean was relieved that it was going so smoothly. Maybe Sam would even sleep the fever off through the night. Maybe he could go to school tomorrow, to which he didn't see a point since it was Friday, but he knew Sam would want to go nonetheless. _

_Dean wandered back into the bedroom around nine, marveling at how Sam could sleep so much now, even being sick, when he'd been having so many nightmares lately. _

_Then he realized that Sam hadn't been sleeping. In fact, Sam wasn't in the bedroom at all. _

_Which only left one other place; the bathroom. _

_Angry at himself for not noticing his brother get up and head into the bathroom, Dean knocked softly on the door, "How you doing, kiddo?" _

_"Fantastic. Now, go away." Dean noted how rough his voice still was, after coughing for the past two days. _

_"Not a chance." Dean snorted, "Can I come in?" _

_"Have you ever heard of privacy?"_

_Dean might have considered letting the matter drop if he hadn't heart Sam get sick a few seconds later. _

_Dean opened the door, and Sam huffed, "Apparently your vocab is so poor that you don't even know what privacy is, let alone having heard of it." _

_Dean would've laughed at the poor excuse for a joke if Sam hadn't been looking like he had just crossed a line from _ill _into _death_. _

_"God, kid, you really got to go all the way." _

_Sam glared at him the best he could, "Yeah, it was a choice," He said dryly, before he had to lean over the toilet. _

_"And I was _really_ hoping not to have to go through this again. It's disgusting, you know." _

_"Next time, you feel free to get the flu." Sam winced, "God, this sucks." _

_Dean handed him a glass of water, "Bottoms up. You know you get dehydrated when you're sick." _

_Sam stared at the glass like it was poisoned, "No way. It'll make things worse." _

_"Trust me, Sammy, dehydration is way worse than being sick." _

_"I know. Remember last summer?" _

_Dean's amused grin faded. He was sure he would never forget last summer, or how all three Winchesters learned just how dangerous the Southern heat could be in the height of summer. _

_"Yeah. Yeah, so since you're so all-knowing, you know to drink the water." _

_Sam sighed as he realized he had no real choice. He took a small sip, and Dean shot him a withering glare. _

_But Sam had been right. He'd only managed half the glass before he heaved it all up, much to both brothers' displeasure. _

_Sam whimpered, "I can die anytime and be perfectly happy." _

_"Don't say that," Dean said, a little more harshly than he meant to, "Don't EVER say that, Sam." _

_Sam flinched, and Dean sighed, not meaning to be tough but wanting his brother to understand that his death, under any circumstance, was not allowed, "I mean it, kid. It's you and me against the world, remember? What am I going to do if you aren't there to do all the researching?"_

_"Hit on all the hot girls." Sam met Dean's eyes, his own colored with misery and pain. _

_"Sam, I'm serious." Dean said gently, "I don't want to do all this without my nerdy little brother by my side." _

_And Sam realized that, in his own way, Dean had just confessed how much he loved him. _

_Sam smiled, as that made him feel a bit better, "Yeah, I love you too, jerk." _

_Dean rolled his eyes, pretending to be unhappy with the definable 'chick-flick' moment, but secretly pleased that Sam had been able to understand what Dean had been implying. _

_"I swear, that fever is making you loopy." Dean rinsed off the thermometer, "One more time, dude. And I'm going to get some ginger ale, that might help." _

_Sam nodded, looking uneasy at the thought of swallowing anything, but he was willing to try the ginger ale more so than anything else. _

_Sam glanced at the thermometer when it was done, but before Dean got back, and groaned at what he saw, curling in ball on the bathroom floor. No wonder he felt so miserable…it was even worse than the previous night. _

_Dean noticed that Sam had foregone the pretense of leaning over the toilet in favor of resting his forehead on the cold tiles, which didn't bode well for his fever. _

_Dean caught the temperature just as it flickered off the screen, and thought he must have read it wrong. There was no way Sam had a 103.4 temp and was still conscious, let alone talking. _

_Dean shook his head, wishing there was someway he could help Sam skip the next few hours. Because 103 temp meant that he was not only going to be sore and shaky, not to mention dizzy, but he was also going to have to stay awake. Dean wasn't going to risk anything even slightly related to a coma until the temperature was in a more acceptable range. _

_"Kay, kid, this is what we're going to do." _

_Sam glanced at him lazily, eyes bright and hazy with fever. _

_"I'm going to go get some stuff, then you and me are going to sit right here, kay? Just until your fever goes down." _

_Sam didn't acknowledge him in any way other than a slow blink. _

_Dean hurried to fetch all the blankets he could get his hands on, even the ones from his father's room, even though that was usually off-limits. _

_Then he put crackers, ginger ale, and Gatorade on the bathroom counter and, hoping that would be all Sam would need in the next few hours, Dean settled down for a long wait. A long and worrisome wait for Sam's temperature to drop._

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Sam laughed quietly when he thought of how Dean had cocooned both of them in blankets, though that led to a cough.

Sam groaned when he realized what the return of the cough meant; his flu had either come back, or never really disappeared. It had only been a day since his fever broke, after all.

He really ought to check his temperature.

But moving wasn't an option, Sam decided. He needed to wait here for Dean's call. Because, surely, when his brother noticed all the missed calls on his phone, he'd call Sam immediately, no matter the time.

Sam just had to wait it out; the same way Dean had waited it out with Sam for his fever to break.

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_Dean didn't think he could sleep even if he wanted to. He was too concerned about Sam's temperature, which had, surprisingly, risen to 103.7. _

_He vowed if it broke 104, or ever 103.9, he was taking Sam to the hospital. _

_It was a long few hours, with lots of reasons to be anxious and not too many that relieved him. _

_Around midnight, Sam started to hallucinate, something Dean should have seen coming, being as sensitive to his brother as he was, but had thought the two had managed to avoid. _

_Sam shoved at Dean suddenly, startling the older brother into dropping his arms, "Sammy?" _

_"Get off," He mumbled, eyes wide with fear, "Dean…" _

_"I'm right here, dude." Dean held his hands up in surrender, but Sam shook his head violently, making Dean wince. _

_"Dean…gotta…help…" _

_Dean knew he had to calm his brother down before he injured himself, something that would only be too typical for Sam. _

_"Sammy, it's alright. You're home, you're safe. It's Dean, it's your brother…" Dean tried to keep a comforting litany as Sam stared at his face with no recognition in his eyes. _

_And it hurt more than Dean cared to admit, that the most important person in his life was staring at him as if they were strangers. _

_Then something cleared in Sam's head, and he leaned forward until his forehead was resting against Dean's chest, hand wrapped around the amulet. Something Dean hasn't seen him do in years. _

_And it spoke for how much pain Sam was really in. Even when Dean had thought half of the kid's skin had been ripped off by a rabid Black Dog and hurried to stitch it back together, Sam hadn't gripped the amulet for comfort. _

_But now he was. And it scared Dean, because Sam really was in _that much pain_. _

_Sam was crying silently, the pain finally breaking him down. Dean did nothing more than wrap his arms around his brother, rocking him gently, praying that Sam would get better soon. _

_He did not want to be faced with the decision of taking his little brother to the hospital. He did not want to admit that his brother was that bad off. _

_"It's okay, Sammy, I got you. I got you, shh, I'm right here." Dean whispered as the kid whimpered in pain, the consequence being a brutal cough. Dean's grip tightened, as if he could physically protect Sam from the illness. _

_It was five in the morning before the fever finally broke. _

_Sam promptly fell asleep, and Dean had just laughed in relief, because, oh, was he relieved. _

_Sam, face still sweaty, muscles still slightly tense, but skin cooler to the touch. Dean picked up his brother and carried him to his bed. _

_It didn't take long to clean up the house—on the off-chance John arrived early, Dean didn't want to be on the receiving end of a lecture on how he was supposed to keep the apartment tidy—but he faced a decision when he finished, standing in the bedroom doorway, looking between either end of the room. _

_His own bed, looking clean and comfortable and overall large when compared to Sam's, tempted him. Dean could just crawl in, and Sam would be none the wiser. _

_Until he had a nightmare, or the fever came back, or something startled him in his sleep…_

_Dean budged Sam over smoothly, truly sharing a bed with his brother for the first time in a long time. He ignored the fact that he was, technically, an independent adult, though his father would beg to differ. He ignored how Sam would probably react in the morning. _

_This was his goddamn brother that he loved so goddamn much and Dean knew Sam wouldn't be the only one sleeping easier tonight._

**Awww...that would be the sentimental Dean that only Sammy can bring out and that we all love :D Sorry if it got kinda mushy...the next chapter definitely has more action and injured!Sam with overprotective!awesome!Dean WHOOHOO**


	6. Chapter 6

**Title: All One Has**

**Author: ssaharadesert **

**Summary: Pre-Series. A miscommunication between the brothers leads to each trying to save the other. Major Hurt!Sam, Protective!Worried!Dean, Slight Worried!John, Worried!Bobby**

**Regular Text: Regular Storyline**

**_Italic Text: Flashback Storyline_**

**So...I finished watching the end of S3...I'm too emotionally distraught to do anything other than cry and rock back and forth in a tiny ball of pain and suffering. **

******TINY SPOILERS FOR S3 IN THE FOLLOWING SENTENCE AND IN THE AN ON THE BOTTOM OF THE PAGE FYI BUT NOT IN THE STORY, SO JUST SKIP TO THAT IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN S3******

**So I thought I'd post another chapter today because it might make me feel more like the world will keep going...even if Dean's in hell...and, oh god, I just can't handle all the feels D': **

Dean groaned when he finally managed to escape the river. For a moment, he panicked, thinking his father hadn't made it out, when he heard splashing behind him and saw John's large silhouette collapse next to him.

"You good, son?" John said, coughing, but more concerned with Dean's safety than his own.

"Peachy. You?" The same held true with the other Winchester present, both smiling in relief when neither was extremely injured.

"That was some ride," Dean said, recalling the way the water had buffeted him around, John's arms snapping around his chest and keeping his head above the water when it seemed like the elder son was going to be swallowed by the river.

"I'm just sorry I didn't teach you the proper technique sooner," John said, still angry with himself for such a lack of oversight.

"No worries, Dad, we made it." Dean reassured him, "But shouldn't we be getting back to the truck?"

John nodded slowly. If he or his son were to lay there for much longer, the exhaustion would be that much harder to fight.

John got up first because, as independent as Dean was, he constantly was following by his father's example.

"You still good?" John pressed, doubtful that both had made it through the river relatively unscathed. Other than his right knee, which John had decided was nothing more than deeply bruised, the elder Winchester was fine.

"Actually think I broke my wrist," Dean admitted, "Don't feel sore anywhere else though. Pretty bruised, but nothing I can't handle."

John nodded. The river hadn't been freezing, thanks to overall warm autumn night, but the water still had a chill to it, and that could have numbed any injuries either had. John would feel a lot better once they were back at Bobby's, where they would regroup, do some more research, come up with a new plan, and return, hopefully, more prepared.

They were halfway back to the truck when John noticed that Dean had stopped.

"Dean? What is it?"

Dean cursed thoroughly, "My phone's broken." He tossed it to the ground with his good arm, the other tucked against his chest, "I need to call Sammy, I told him I would."

John had a sinking feeling about his own phone. If Dean's hadn't survived, he didn't have much hope that his would be any more functional.

It wasn't.

Dean cursed profusely again, and John understood why. Sam was almost as bad at worrying as his brother, and would assume the worst if he didn't hear from Dean.

"It was a new phone, too." Dean complained under his breath, "Sam and I just got the new fucking things."

"Dean," John said strictly, "Language. I know you're worried, but Sam's fine. He'll be a little worried, but we'll call him as soon as we get to Bobby's, it's only an hour away."

Dean nodded. Sam could wait another hour or so to hear from them. It was well before midnight, and Sam knew better than to expect a premature call. If Dean knew his brother, he wouldn't start panicking until one or two in the morning.

Both men breathed a sigh of relief when the truck came into sight. Dean quickly stripped out of his wet clothes that had not dried much even in the seasonal temperature, his father mirroring his actions on the other side of the cab.

Dean was a little more bruised than he expected to be, but was pleased to say a broken wrist was the worst outcome of the jump.

John was also a little more scraped up, but it seemed his eldest and he were quite lucky.

"Let's get going, Dad, I'm worried about Sammy." Dean said, hopping into the passenger's seat, and starting the engine while John was still pulling on a jacket.

"Worried that he'll be worried, or worried that something might have happened?" John expected it to only be the first, and felt a pang of unease when Dean answered, "Both." After all, Dean knew Sam better than John ever would, and the father had learned to trust Dean's sixth sense when it came to his brother.

So what if he broke a few speeding laws? So what if it was dark out, therefore meaning he should watch for deer or other animals?

If Dean thought something was wrong, John had every reason to believe that there was, and his foot never left the accelerator.

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It was just before midnight when Dean and John made it back to Bobby's, having spent less than an hour on the road. Dean beelined straight for the phone without saying a word to either older man.

Then, he stared at it, a look of horror coming across his face.

"Dean, what is it?" John asked when he caught up, expecting the worst.

"I can't remember Sammy's number." Dean said, such a wave of self-loathing and guilt crashing over him he felt dizzy, "_I can't remember Sammy's number." _

"Calm down, it's 555-341-5839." John told him, having to take a deep breath. Dean thought Sam was the drama queen, but here he was making a fuss out of nothing….

"That's his old number." Dean said miserably, "It changed when we got new phones, I haven't had a chance to memorize it yet."

John remembered quite vividly the memory of him handing the boys money to go get the phones less than a week ago. It hit him that he had heard in the back of his mind Dean telling him to change Sammy's number in his phone, but he had been focused on other things…probably this hunt…

John and Dean stared at each other in mute horror, realizing there was no other way to contact the youngest Winchester unless they drove the five hours to the apartment.

"If you don't want to, then you don't have to, but I'm going." Dean said immediately, "I don't care."

John knew the smartest thing would be to let the very capable Dean go see to his brother while he stayed with Bobby and researched more on the hunt. If it was something that John had never seen before, then he knew it would take more digging than Bobby would be able to do on his own to uncover any information on the beast.

But he wanted to see his youngest, to make sure everything was alright and, if necessary, to tear apart whoever had made it where it wasn't.

John sighed heavily, realizing that, yet again, he was letting down both of his sons when they needed him.

"Go on, Dean. I'm going to stay here with Bobby and research that monster."

Even if John died with both of his sons thinking he didn't care, at least he knew, in his own way, that he was doing this to protect them. Something like that thing in the woods could easily chose Sam or Dean as its victim, and John swore that that would never happen. Even if it meant his sons hated him.

It wasn't easy to ignore the disappointment in Dean's face as he shot out Bobby's. The truck roared to life, and was gone before John could take another breath.

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Bobby met John's gaze evenly, "I understand why you did that, John. Even if Dean and Sam don't."

"It's hard, Bobby. I understand why Sam doesn't understand; he doesn't care enough about hunting or me to try to. But I thought Dean would get it. I thought Dean would see that I am putting their best interests at heart."

Bobby sighed, "Hate to say it, Winchester, but they'll probably get it as soon as you're dead and gone."

John nodded briskly, putting his self-pity behind him, "Let's just get started. Maybe by the time Sam and Dean get back, we can have this figured out."

"I am not sitting here for that long. We'll figure it out before then, or else I'm going to bed."

John smiled at little at Bobby's to-hell-with-you attitude, "Okay, so this is what it looked like…"

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Dean raced down the road at probably was twice as fast as John's speed earlier. He didn't care if a police pulled him over, though that alone would probably slow him down more than if he were to take ten miles per hour off his speed.

But his little brother was in danger, and Dean wasn't going to be reasonable.

Dean was going to get back to that apartment and kick serious ass.

He wasn't sure why he was certain that Sam was in trouble.

Maybe it was because he knew what his brother was liable to do when worried.

Maybe it was because he knew his brother had been sick, and was that much more likely to get sick again if he ignored his own needs in favor of worrying about his family.

Maybe it was because Sam was a trouble magnet, and he had gone too long without something happening, and Dean knew that it was only a matter of time before something happened, and he'd be damned if it happened while he was five hours away, and oh god, what if he's too late because of _this goddamn long drive and why couldn't he remember Sammy's number…_

"Breathe," Dean told himself before he could let his thoughts distract him, "You're no good to Sammy if you get into an accident."

It was around 3:30am by the time Dean peeled into the driveway, and he normally would have been proud of how he nearly halved a five-hour journey, but all he could focus on was _Sammy Sammy Sammy._

"Sam!" He said as soon as he was in the apartment, heart pounding, "Sammy!"

The salt lines were unbroken. There was no blood, no overturned furniture, no lights on except in the brothers' shared bedroom.

It had a startling resemblance to Wednesday afternoon when Dean returned home from work.

In fact, he had such an experience of déjà vu that when he burst into the bedroom, he fully expected the room to be just as empty as it was that afternoon.

It was.

The light was on, both beds rumpled—Dean hadn't gotten around to making it in the past few days, and wasn't that an odd thing to be focusing on, no, he should be worrying about _where the hell Sammy was_—and the room overall how Dean remembered.

He stumbled throughout the house, checking everywhere for one little brother.

There was nothing. No proof that Sammy had been in the apartment in the past few hours.

"Oh, god, Sammy, where the hell are you…" Dean said, resting his head against a wall, fists clenched.

Dean took a deep breath, decided the best plan of action would be to gather more evidence of where Sam could have gone, be it missing clothes because he voluntarily left or some sign of a struggle.

His eyes alighted on something he had missed the first time around.

Sam's cell phone sitting on their fake coffee table, with a blanket left forgotten on the couch.

It was definitely not like that when Dean had left this morning.

He snatched up the cell phone, but realized he had no one to call. The one person he wanted to talk to was out of reach because his one connection to the world was sitting in his brother's hands.

And John's phone was sitting with Dean's in a forest somewhere, a complete waste of metal and silicone.

Dean was dialing before his brain could comprehend that there was one number he knew by heart because it hadn't changed in the last eighty years…

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Bobby's house phone rang, and John grabbed it before the other man could blink, "Hello? Sam?"

"No, it's me, Dad."

"Dean." John took a steadying breath, "Tell me Sam's okay." Because based on Dean's tone, Sam was definitely _not_ okay.

"He's gone. I can't find him."

John's grip tightened around the phone, and he had to forcibly loosen it before his one way of talking to Dean shattered in his fist.

"Any sign of a struggle?" John asked, trying to remove his emotion. It would make him more effective in finding his son. If only he could forget that is was his little boy that was missing, the one that used to give John a hard hug whenever the man seemed to drown in his grief for Mary, the one that used to question everything with a childlike innocence, the one _that was now missing._

"No. No." Dean said, seeming to also be struggling with a strong emotion, "No blood. There's some stuff missing, I think he just left and _god, I am going to kill this kid as soon as I find him." _

John was sure that Dean hadn't meant to say that last part out loud, but internally he was sharing the same sentiment.

Of course, neither would go anywhere near hurting Sam, though John was thinking that if Sam didn't have a good reason for disappearing, he certainly was going to train until he dropped dead.

"Okay. Think, Dean. Where would he go? What would cause him to leave?"

Neither Winchester came up with any ideas, but behind John, Bobby slammed a hand on the table, "John, I think I know where Sam is."

John turned to Bobby, eyes filled with equal parts concern and curiosity, "Where?"

Bobby realized that neither Winchester would see it, because they were all too involved. It took a well-informed outsider to realize exactly what Sam did.

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"What?" Dean said, confused, "Why would it matter if the Impala is here? I swear to God, I can _not_ handle my baby getting stolen tonight on top of everything else!"

"Dean, just do it!" John snapped through the phone, "Is the Impala still outside?"

"Son of a bitch! She's missing, Dad! Son of a goddamn bitch!"

"Calm down." John commanded, and Dean took a deep breath, unable to ignore John's military tone.

"Bobby thinks Sam took the Impala to come looking for us."

And suddenly, it all fit together and Dean realized that is exactly like something a desperate Sam would do.

**So, I hope this was a good chapter...I'm going to go start watching S4 now I guess...or maybe I'll just stay under my blanket fort while reading FF in a futile attempt to get the S3 finale out of my head AND DEANS IN HELL AND I JUST CANT EVEN HANDLE LIFE RIGHT NOW UGGGGHHHHHH WHY KRIPKE WHYYYYYYY...**


	7. Chapter 7

**Title: All One Has**

**Author: ssaharadesert **

**Summary: Pre-Series. A miscommunication between the brothers leads to each trying to save the other. Major Hurt!Sam, Protective!Worried!Dean, Slight Worried!John, Worried!Bobby**

**Regular Text: Regular Storyline**

**_Italic Text: Flashback Storyline_**

**WHY IS S4 SO HEARTBREAKING? WHY WHY WHY? I mean, Carry On My Wayward Son had me bawling like a baby because of the previous episode UGH D: **

**So I was feeling very unmotivated to post this chapter in light of 4.21. If you've seen the episode, you'll know what I mean BECAUSE OF REASONS THAT I DO NOT WANT TO SPOIL FOR THOSE WHO HAVEN'T SEEN IT. **

**So, here's another chapter, and I hope it clears up a little confusion on Sam's actions! **

Sam left the apartment around 1:30am, or at least what he thought was 1:30. It might even have been 3:10. It was hard to read the digital clock when everything was blurry and throbbing.

It was hard to think of anything other than Dean or John. Sam's sporadic thoughts kept turning back to them; Dean's pale, cold face, eyes open, staring blankly. John's skin, so bloodied that Sam couldn't tell if he had any skin left at all.

And all the younger Winchester knew was that he needed to get to them. No other distractions.

He decided that it wasn't worth packing much, or anything, really. He didn't know what he'd need if he found John or Dean injured, so he packed the medkit, along with some clothes and blankets, and left.

Sam thanked the heavens above that his family had taken the truck, leaving him the Impala.

The fifteen-year-old had never driven his father's truck, but just over a week ago, Dean had been teaching Sam in this very same car. And Sam was only a few weeks away from his birthday, and therefore his license, so how hard could it be to drive to where John and Dean were hunting?

He didn't stop to consider the ramifications if he were to get pulled over. No distractions.

Sam thought he did well at first, occasionally speeding when he thought of all the different situations that his brother and father could be in, but slowing when he felt uncomfortable with the road.

No distractions.

But he could tell he was getting tired and stressed by the time it was after 4:00. Stressed enough that he swore he saw his father's truck pass him by, and almost stopped to chase after it, on the off chance it indeed was his father.

"Don't be stupid, Sam," The youngest Winchester whispered to himself, "Just get to the freaking hunting grounds."

It wasn't until he was over halfway there that he realized he left his cell phone several hours away, but decided it useless either way. No distractions.

Most of the ride was a blur, Sam unaware that he didn't remember most of it. Mind and body focused on only one thing.

Father and brother.

Sam knew he was in a rough spot when he reached the hunting grounds, and fell on his face trying to get out of the Impala as shaky legs failed him.

Cursing his luck and cursing the fact that he so weak and dizzy—why couldn't he save his family like his family's saved him all these years?—Sam wearily got to his feet. He had no idea which way into these woods John and Dean had gone. Deciding north was his best guess, Sam plunged into the darkness, no hint of dawn in the sky yet.

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Dean raced down the roads, bypassing the way that would take him to Bobby's completely.

"Dean, don't get yourself killed." John said, not needing to be with his eldest to know that he was driving recklessly fast.

"Why didn't he just call Bobby, huh? Why does he have to make everything. So. Damn. Hard?" Dean accentuated each word with a blow to the steering wheel, feeling no guilt as it wasn't his baby he was hitting.

John found he had no answer. He thought that Sam knew if he couldn't get ahold of John or Dean, Bobby would be the next person to contact and, like Dean, Sam had Bobby's number memorized.

This spelled even more problems.

"Dean, you don't think…I mean, it's obvious Sam's not thinking clearly. Do you think he's feverish again?"

John heard nothing through the phone except his truck's engine straining to go even faster.

"Call me when you find him. Bobby and I'll keep an eye out, in case he comes here." John said finally, and hung up, knowing he'd feel better if Dean had both hands on the wheel when driving so hastily, though John doubted even a car accident would stop Dean from reaching his little brother.

John met Bobby's eyes, "I don't think is going to be an easy night for any of us, Bobby."

Bobby just sighed, hoping just as much as any of the Winchesters that all three would be safe and sound by the break of dawn.

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Dean recognized the Impala the minute he pulled up next to it. Jumping out as if the truck's seat was on fire, Dean threw the driver's side door wide open.

Still no Sammy.

Dean just stared, the threat of failure welling up inside of him, stronger than ever. He had been _so sure_ that if he found the Impala, Sam would be there.

"Sam, WHERE ARE YOU?" His voice started softly, but grew to a scream at the end.

Only the wind answered him. Dean allowed a moment for him to overcome his feelings, bottle them deeply, allowing only a mechanical sense of logic to drive him.

He called Bobby's again, realizing that they would be unable to call him without Sam's number, and since Bobby's house phone was old enough to still use a dial, Dean doubted he had Caller ID.

"I found the Impala at the hunting grounds." Dean said in lieu of greeting. He wasn't sure who had answered, but it didn't matter. Finding Sam was the only thing on the older brother's mind.

It had been Bobby, "No sign of Sam?"

Dean growled, leaning against his baby's hood for a sense of support, something he'd only do in drastic situation, wary of anything scratching the paint job. At least if it was still moderately warm outside, the Impala's hood was hot enough to discourage any chill that would come right before the sun broke the edge of the sky.

"Well, Dean, I hate to be the one to tell ya this, but your father and I figured out what that thing was, and it doesn't bode well if Sam's wanderin' the same woods that monster's in."

Dean shut his eyes. He had completely forgotten that, apparently along with a feverish little brother, a supernatural being was roaming the woods.

"What it is?" He asked softly, a dangerous edge to his voice.

Bobby hoped that new information, a way to kill that thing, would motivate Dean, because the boy was sounding discouraged, frustrated, but mostly scared.

"It's called a Hishollo, and it's a real nasty piece of work." Bobby started, but quickly skipped to the part he knew Dean would be interested in, "And the only way to kill it is direct heat. A fire, hotter than any human can handle. Your little Zippo's ain't gonna cut it, boy."

"Don't worry about it, Bobby. This thing will be dead." Dean vowed, "As soon as I find Sammy."

"You better call as soon as either of those things are done, no sense keeping your father and I worrying, we already got enough gray hairs from you boys!"

Dean snapped the phone shut when it came clear that that was Bobby's way of saying goodbye. There was no trace of Sammy, no way of tracking him that Dean could find, and he had no idea how far or close his brother was…

Dean slammed a hand on the Impala's hood, again noting the surprising warmth. Unless the Impala had been sitting in direct sunlight, she shouldn't be this warm unless…

Unless she had been driven recently.

Sam had to be nearby.

"SAM!" Dean shouted, hope flaring up against his will, "SAMMY!"

His brother was close, Dean knew it, this proved it. And that made his job a lot easier.

And so, he began the hunt of finding Sam.

**I'll be watching the S4 finale if anyone wants me...and if someone could do me a huge favor and let my profs know I won't be attending class for the next two weeks due to emotional scarring and therapy, that'd be lovely :) **

**Never mind, I'll go to class. But no promises that there won't be an abundance of tissues. :P **

**Happy MLK day! (Even though I'm posting this after midnight) **


	8. Chapter 8

**Title: All One Has**

**Author: ssaharadesert **

**Summary: Pre-Series. A miscommunication between the brothers leads to each trying to save the other. Major Hurt!Sam, Protective!Worried!Dean, Slight Worried!John, Worried!Bobby**

**Regular Text: Regular Storyline**

**_Italic Text: Flashback Storyline_**

**So, guys, my plan was to give you two chapters today because you've been SO AWESOME with the reviews/favorites/follows and I CAN'T THANK YOU ENOUGH! **

**But, let me tell you a story that will hopefully make you laugh and forgive me for only posting one chapter instead of two so late a night. **

**So, once upon a time, there was this broke college student. When said college student was still in high school, she cut off all her hair because 'it was a thing' (just go with it). **

**Well, this person went to college and realized that short hair was NOT a thing, and that I'd-I mean, she'd-be a lot happier with long hair. So, months passed in her freshman year of college without a hair cut. **

**Now, this broke college student was broke. So, what was a girl to do except cut her own hair? **

**Long story short, I was watching an episode of Supernatural (I'm in Season Five guys!) while trimming my hair, and maybe I was paying too much attention to Jared and Jensen and not enough to what I was doing...yeah, I messed up. So long, my plan for long hair anytime in the near future. **

**So the time that I was otherwise going to devote to posting a chapter earlier was spent with three of my friends, all of them trying to fix my 'mullet' (their words, not mine). **

**I hope you got a kick of that story, and have had a good laugh, because it is not happy fun times below :) **

**Enjoy! **

Sam knew he was going to die.

He kept hearing his father's voice shouting for help just behind him, only to turn and see nothing.

He'd go barreling through the woods towards the sound of Dean's pain filled cry, but trip over a root, and accept that Dean wasn't really there.

Over and over and over and over again.

It was much harder in the dark, though Sam knew the sun had to be rising soon. It just had to. Though, he didn't know what he'd find in its morning glow.

With no sign of brother or father, Sam knew he was going to die. He wasn't going back to the apartment without either.

So he kept moving on, not realizing he was traveling in large, erratic circles even after passing the same group of trees multiple times.

"Dean." Sam had not the strength to say anything louder than a pained whisper, "Dad."

Sam didn't want to die slowly. He didn't want to wander out here for days before illness or nature took his life.

He wished someone would come end his misery.

Because the truth of his misery is that he knew he would not survive on his own, without father or brother. Grief and hopelessness would kill him, surely, but that would take even longer.

Sam just wanted it to end.

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Unbeknownst to the youngest Winchester, a pair of eyes watched him hungrily, the Hishollo waiting to make the kill. Sunrise was approaching, the one thing that would weaken him above all else. But food was important.

And those two adults had inadvertently chased off his meal earlier.

But the Hishollo didn't care now. He had found a replacement.

Young people tasted better, after all.

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This was Dean's worst nightmare.

His little brother, the one thing he had in this life, was missing.

He kept thinking he would wake up, Sammy safe and sound next to him.

Despair threatened to drown him, making his heart heavy, each step harder and harder to take.

But Dean wasn't going to give up.

That's what he kept telling himself. He would not give up on Sam, the same way Sam would not give up on him.

Until a root, unfortunately placed in the older brother's path, sent him sprawling in the dirt.

And Dean had to admit that exhaustion had finally beaten him. It was too hard to get up, to hard to keep searching for a brother he wouldn't find.

In the future, he would deny the sob that escaped him, and he would never admit that for one moment, just a singular moment, Dean had given in to the darkness.

A snap of branch behind him.

A quiet voice, sounding so rough and familiar and like the most beautiful sound Dean had ever heard, whispering, "Dean?"

A wave of relief so shocking that Dean was surprised that his heart didn't stop.

Dean was on his feet in one second, his little brother wrapped tightly in his arms in another.

And if he cried, Dean knew Sam would not hold it against him.

"Sam. Oh, god, Sammy. I thought I'd never see you again."

The fifteen-year-old, not looking like he was completely conscious, blinked at him, "Where's Dad? Are you okay? Dean!"

"I'm fine, Dad's fine. What the _hell_ were you thinking, not going to Bobby's? Why did you feel like coming out here was necessary?" Dean would have continued to rant until his fear disappeared and his heart stopped pounding like it was going to escape his chest, but Sam shook his head, "No, Dean!"

Dean followed Sam's gaze to a pair of gleaming eyes in the darkness.

Right. There was still a supernatural creature in these woods, and it had apparently found them.

And Dean had completely ignored Bobby's warnings, and was only equipped with his Zippo.

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Sam was sure he was hallucinating, but at least his hallucination made dying easier by telling him that Dean was fine, John was fine.

But Sam was pretty sure that, even in his darkest nightmares, he wouldn't hallucinate the kind of monster that stood in the edge of the trees.

"Okay, Sammy," His hallucination told him, "Fire's the only thing that'll kill it."

Sam nodded, pretending to be interested. Honestly, this beast just provided him a more efficient way to escape the torture of being alone.

Nature had answered his wish for a quick death, and Sam was not going to squander it by humoring a hallucination.

Sam wasn't going to pretend that he didn't want this to be real—_oh how bad did he want this to be the real Dean_—but Sam knew better.

Because the real Dean Winchester would save the day. He would kill the beast with one shot to the chest with a silver bullet, get Sam to the Impala and maybe pick up some pie on their way back to the apartment.

This hallucination was doing a poor job. No gun, no sarcastic quip, no devil-may-care grin. Only fear, worry, uncertainty.

And a beast that could only be killed by fire? Even Sam knew that there was no such thing, and he was sure that he knew more about mythological creatures than the real Dean.

However, a figment of his imagination would know everything Sam knew, and as much as it broke his heart, Sam knew this was all it was.

So it was time to say goodbye to the hallucination that had made his last moments easier.

Or, as Sam stared emotionlessly into the hungry eyes of the monster, maybe he would stretch out his time on Earth.

The youngest Winchester decided that there were still a few death preferable to being torn apart, devoured by that which he had been taught to hunt.

At least, there would be a more _dignified_ death than that.

And Sam couldn't help but laugh that dignity still had any place in his life.

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Dean was frozen. Sure, his Zippo had saved his life more times than he cared to count. But it sure as hell wasn't going to do anything other than irritate the beast.

Behind him, where he was protectively blocking Sammy from the Hishollo's searching gaze, he heard a snort of laughter.

_What the hell was Sammy laughing about at a time like this? _

Dean hoped it was because something had been overlooked, a weakness of the Hishollo, or maybe a weapon that Dean had forgotten about.

Anything that would save their lives.

But when Dean quickly glanced at Sam's face, all he saw was blank emotion, eyes void of feeling, an almost calm aura surrounding him.

Later, he realized it was the look of someone prepared for death.

"Kay, Sammy." Dean knew his best plan of action was to try to get them both back to the Impala, where a can of gasoline had the Hishollo's name on it, "This is what we're going to do." He spoke lowly, so as to not startle the Hishollo into attacking prematurely.

But before Dean could finish, he could feel Sam's mirth behind him.

Dean seriously was freaked out by how carefree Sam was acting.

"Dude, you have to run." Dean wanted to turn, shake some sense in his little brother, make sure he understood that _he had to run as fast he could_, but he couldn't take his eyes of the Hishollo. It seemed to be the only thing keeping it at bay, with an amused tint to its eyes, as if it knew what the brothers were planning, and how futile it would be.

Then, without preamble, Sam took off into the woods. And Dean realized with growing horror that he never told Sam, Sam who seemed a little delusional, which was the way the vehicles were.

Sam shot off towards the river, right towards where the Hishollo did it's hunting.

Dean stared at the creature, and sprinted after his brother, knowing it was a race to whichever of them could reach Sammy first.

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Sam decided that there were definitely better ways to die. He had been amused by the hallucination's honest attempts to make him care for his own safety, but then had grown annoyed.

If the hallucination was him, couldn't it tell that Sam was done with self-preservation? There was no need to drag it out.

So Sam had ran, to escape dream and nightmare, though he was sure both were close behind.

His breath came in strangled gasps, his fever working against him. Even so, Sam had always been fast, faster than Dean, faster than most of the monsters they went up against.

It wasn't until Sam saw the ground drop off in front of him that he stopped, the forest deafeningly silent.

**Yup, I'm going to go bald...I mean, Britney Spears pulled off, right? Right? RIGHT? *sigh* **

**I'll post two chapters tomorrow :D **

**Thanks! **


	9. Chapter 9

**Title: All One Has**

**Author: ssaharadesert **

**Summary: Pre-Series. A miscommunication between the brothers leads to each trying to save the other. Major Hurt!Sam, Protective!Worried!Dean, Slight Worried!John, Worried!Bobby**

**Regular Text: Regular Storyline**

**_Italic Text: Flashback Storyline_**

**Hey guys! Thanks for all the awesome reviews! If I haven't answered it yet, I am sorry! I'm trying to work through the ones I have, and those I haven't, and it's a little messy :P **

**Here's the next chapter, hope you like it! **

Dean couldn't see Sammy anymore, he couldn't hear the beast anymore, and honestly he didn't know if could keep going.

He had found his brother just to lose him again, and that was devastating enough.

He didn't even want to think about the look on Sammy's face.

Then, like a twisted scene out of a horror movie, Dean found himself staring at his brother, who was standing at the edge of the cliff, the beast and two Winchesters forming a triangle.

He couldn't even remember how he got there.

But he sure as hell could them out of this.

He had to.

"Sammy, come closer to me."

Sam didn't move, didn't look at him, just stared at the beast.

"Sammy, please, come here." Dean was starting to seriously panic. This wasn't his little brother, who would cling to Dean with everything he had when he felt threatened.

"Sam." Dean said softly, the Hishollo growling lightly, but seemingly enjoying the precarious position of the younger brother.

Then Dean noticed a misshapen lump on the ground, only feet away.

_Dean and John's hunting bags. _

They had dropped them earlier when jumping off the cliff, and luck had led Dean back to them.

There was a small can of gasoline in there, not enough to really douse the creature, but certainly enough to send it up in a fiery blaze.

Dean dived for it at the same time the Hishollo lost patience and tackled Sam. Both rolled sideways along the cliff line, getting no closer nor farther from falling into the river below.

Dean went to desperately throw the gasoline, but froze. There was no way he could burn it without also burning Sam.

Dean couldn't see anyway around it. He had to get the thing away from Sam, who was doing nothing to protect himself, who was only inches from falling into the river.

"Sam!" Dean shouted powerfully, "Roll left!"

Sam, startled into action, rolled straight off the cliff edge.

Dean had no time to pray that he had made the right call, that he hadn't just sealed his brother's fate.

Dean had only time to toss all the gasoline he could at the Hishollo, his Zippo soon following, the monster bursting into flames just as the sun broke the horizon, turning everything a bright, fiery red.

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Sam was pretty sure that his hallucination of Dean had finally understood. Sam hadn't wanted to listen to it, but it held the same tone that Dean always used when _Sam-better-do-something-right-that-instant-or-else_ that Sam was powerless to ignore.

So he was pleasantly surprised when it led to him falling off the cliff, which, in turn, led him to believing that _finally _the hallucination understood.

Understood and had given him a way out.

So Sam was unsure why he was still hanging from the cliff by both hands, having fallen only inches. Survival instincts had kicked in at the least opportune moment, leading to Sam becoming stuck.

Fear had him unable to let go, but shaky limbs kept him from climbing up.

Above him, flames burst into being, the effect being accentuated by the sudden light behind him, sparkling off the water below.

Sam felt dizzy from it all.

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The beast made one last desperate bid for freedom, no doubt thinking the water below would extinguish the flames. It flew over the cliff edge as if given the gift of flight.

Dean scrambled to look over the edge just in time to see it evaporate centimeters before hitting the water.

The Hishollo was gone.

But Sam was not, dangling only inches from Dean, looking like the better side of death.

"Sam, give me your hand." Dean said, reaching for his brother, Sam shook his head, "No, you're not real, leave me alone."

Sam's voice was breathy, and Dean had to second guess what he heard, "Sam, _no_. It's me, it's Dean!"

Suddenly, everything leading up to then made sense. Sam had run, not because he had listened to Dean, but because he didn't think Dean was real. Sam hadn't been happy to see him because he didn't think what he was seeing was his brother.

"Sam. I promise. Please, little brother, just grab my hand." Dean said, fear seizing his heart. He could almost see the thoughts going through Sam's head. He could tell that Sam was debating whether to reach to safety, or let himself drop.

Dean's eyes filled with tears when Sam shook his head resolutely, knowing that in that moment, Sam was going to let go.

Dean lunged down farther than he felt comfortable with to grab his brother, but Sam was already out of his reach.

"No! Sammy!" Dean shouted, wasting no time in scrambling back onto the cliff in order to get a better jump into the river. He dived without a second thought, towards the water that had already swallowed his brother.

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Sam thought it would go black immediately. He wasn't prepared for the rough treatment of the waves, the way they would hold him under long enough to tease that tempting blackness in front of him, only to shove him to the surface, where Sam couldn't keep from gasping air, for the cycle to repeat.

Then again, Sam hadn't been prepared for the amount of emotion the not-real-Dean had shown either.

He thinks it was the fear that the not-real-Dean might have actually been real-Dean that led him to let go.

Because if he had let his hope convince him that it was Dean, that his brother and father weren't gone, then Sam didn't know what he'd do. It was easier just to let go; of the cliff, of his problems, of any ties to this Earth.

The youngest Winchester weakened quickly, muscles becoming unresponsive, lungs burning, eyes slipping shut.

Sam knew peace was finally coming.

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Dean was thankful that the sun lit up the river; unlike when his father and he were being tossed around earlier that night, Dean could see where he was in relation to the shore.

And, more importantly, he could see where Sam's dark head popped out of the water.

Dean estimated it couldn't have been more than five minutes before his arms were wrapped around Sam, but it felt like years, each one passing more slowly than the one before.

Dean wasted no time in working his way towards the shore, Sam tucked tightly against his chest. He was tiring quickly, as it was the second time he'd fought this very same river that night.

Luckily, the shore was sandy and smooth when Dean reached it, with no sharp rocks that might further injure either brother.

Sam flopped on the ground without any resistance, and Dean, hand shaking, placed two fingers on his pale neck.

Dean's own heart stopped beating when he felt nothing, as if protesting that it would only continue on if Sam's did as well.

"Sammy," Dean whispered, "C'mon, Sammy, you can't do this to me, c'mon, Sammy, _please_, oh god, _please_ wake up! Sam!"

Dean's hands started preforming CPR as if of their own volition, his head bending to help Sam breath without any conscious thought.

It was all he had left to do, because Dean refused to accept any situation that didn't involve Sammy opening his eyes, taking a breath, even moving a finger.

It was all he had left to do.

It was all he had.

_Sam was all he had. _

"Sam!" Dean shouted, "Wake up!"

And Sam did.

Dean watched in shock as Sam began coughing. It only took moments before the rest of Dean's first aid training kicked in, and he turned Sam on his side so all the water he swallowed wouldn't choke him.

"It's okay, Sammy, it's okay, I'm right here, it's okay, shh, Sammy, it's okay," Dean rubbed his brother's back as Sam shakily gasped for breath, eyes squeezed shut tight.

"Dean?" Sam finally was able to say, in such a tiny voice that Dean was sent back close to thirteen years, when the two had learned that their mother wasn't returning.

In lieu of response, Dean, when he saw that Sam was breathing fairly well, pulled his brother tight to his chest again, not willing to let the kid go anytime soon.

This kid that he loved so much, who had decided to throw himself off a cliff when he thought his brother was dead.

Dean was having a serious talk with him when Sam was more aware of his surroundings.

"It's okay, Sammy. It's me, you're going to be okay." Dean just kept repeating the words until Sam finally broke, his arms wrapping around Dean's neck, tears mixing with the water dripping off of Dean's jacket, his sobs shaking both their bodies.

The sun was well above the horizon, its rays doing little to dry either off, when Sam stirred.

"D'n, m'so s'ry," His voice was still muffled from being buried in Dean's jacket.

"It's okay, Sammy. It's okay," Dean tried to stand, dragging Sam up with him, but his little brother's face twisted in pain, and Dean froze, "What's wrong, Sammy?"

"M'head. 'Zy." Sam's pupils were large, and Dean could tell that if he weren't to support Sam, the kid would either be swaying in place, or already on his ass.

"Easy, then, kiddo." Dean soothed, scooping his brother up when he realized Sam was much too shaky to stand on his own, "It's okay. We'll get you warm, and then you can sleep for as long as you need."

"Kay, D'n." Sam's eyes slipped closed, and Dean wondered if he should be worried about that. To the best of Dean's knowledge, the kid was just exhausted and sick, but not concussed. However, if he had hit his head while in the river, or been unconscious for too long…that could lead to an entirely new set of problems.

"Sam, hey," Dean said softly, "How you feeling?"

Sam's eyes flickered, but didn't open, "S'k."

"Like you have the flu?"

Sam nodded pathetically, "W'se."

"It's worse?"

Another tiny nod. Dean's arm tightened their hold, and he hurried his pace, as much as his muscles complained.

**D: I am so mean to these boys. But god bless them, teen-chesters is just too cute. Especially considering everything that happens in Season Five, which by the way, is SO HEARTBREAKING. I swear to heaven above, I just really want to hit Kripke :P **

**I'll post again tomorrow! Or maybe tonight...0_o **


	10. Chapter 10

**Title: All One Has**

**Author: ssaharadesert **

**Summary: Pre-Series. A miscommunication between the brothers leads to each trying to save the other. Major Hurt!Sam, Protective!Worried!Dean, Slight Worried!John, Worried!Bobby**

**Regular Text: Regular Storyline**

**_Italic Text: Flashback Storyline_**

**Here it is, guys! The LAST CHAPTER OMG :D **

**You guys really have been the best, but you could be even more awesome if you make sure to read the AN at the bottom of the page when you're done!**

**And, real quick, one of my guest readers (it wouldn't let me PM you, idreamofivan) pointed out that it wasn't like John to stay behind with all the action going on. I guess my reasoning was that since Dean had John's truck (and the Impala was with Sam) John decided just to stay at Bobby's instead of taking one of his junker trucks or something. I'm going with that he was assuming that Dean would find Sam and bring him back to Bobby's without anything with the hunt happening, and therefore didn't think his presence was needed. **

**Hopefully, that clears up a few questions :D **

It was over a half an hour later, probably sometime after 6:00 in the morning if Dean had to guess, before they reached the two cars.

He had laughed for a solid five minutes when he realized he had yet to learn from his mistakes, and had left Sam's cell phone in his pocket while diving into the river, therefore making it just as useless as John and Dean's.

His father was going to kill him.

But Dean kept smiling because Sam was alive, safe and sound in his arms, a little sick, but nothing Dean couldn't fix with a few days and lots of sleep.

Sam was beginning to stir, and Dean noted with some level of concern that his face was flushed with fever, and very warm to the touch.

That explained Sam's irrational behavior, at least.

"Hey," Dean said softly when Sam's eyes cracked open while being set on the passenger's side seat of the Impala, "You with me?"

"D'n." Sam murmured, "'ou s'ved 'e."

"Sure did, kiddo. You owe me big time." Dean relaxed when Sam's mouth twitched upwards in the hint of a smile.

"N'ver." Sam's eyes slid back shut, prompting Dean to lay a hand on his forehead. It was uncomfortably hot, probably not helped by Sam's high levels of anxiety nor the trip in the river. The faster Dean got him to Bobby's, the better the older brother would feel.

Not to mention now that Dean had put Sam down, his broken wrist was giving him hell. He hadn't noticed it until now, but it was demanding his attention in the most painful way Dean could imagine.

"Dad's going to kill you for leaving the apartment, you know." Dean said as he got behind the wheel, forcing his own exhaustion to the back of his mind. As soon as he was seated, he pulled Sam closer until the younger brother's head was resting on Dean's thigh.

"Kn'w." Sam whispered, "H's goin' be m'd."

"Nah, he'll know why you did it." Dean's eyes narrowed, "Why didn't you go to Bobby's though?"

Sam blinked at him drowsily, "Who?"

"Bobby? Bobby Singer?" Dean said, a pang going through him, "You know…?"

"Co'rse I know." Sam sighed, "Di'nt think 'bout it."

Dean was relieved that Sam was becoming more articulate, but he knew that this fever would be an even worse repeat of the past weekend, something he had been glad to put behind him.

"Well, think about it, nerd." Dean said, more for normalcy than anything, "I won't leave you alone until you're thirty if I think this is going to happen every time."

"Jerk." Sam's voice was weak, but it held the same level of affection it did every time he used the insult.

"Bitch." Dean couldn't help but reaching over and mussing Sam's hair, so glad that this kid made it out alive.

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John and Bobby had both been furious when Dean had pulled into Bobby's driveway.

"What the hell were you thinking, not calling me!"

"You idjit, I told you to call us, dammit!"

"The phone went into the river, it's broken!" Dean defended himself as he crossed from one side of the Impala to the other to get Sam.

"River? You were in the river _again_?" John said, "Is Sam okay?"

"He's tired and sick, but he survived, and yes, we were in the river again." Dean said as he picked up one sleeping little brother.

"_Sam was in the river?_"

"I got him, Dad. He's fine. We both are fine, we just need to warm up." Dean carried his brother up the stairs, each step feeling heavier than the last, "And sleep." He added under his breath.

"What happened? Did you get the Hishollo?" Bobby asked as he and John followed the older Winchester brother into the house.

"Burned to a crisp." Dean said, swaying slightly.

John noticed immediately, "Give him to me, you're going to fall down."

"No!" Dean recoiled, "No, I got him. I'm not setting him down."

"Dean…"

"Dad, I went through hell to get this kid, I'm not letting go of him."

John sighed at Dean's stubbornness, "Can't blame you, Ace."

Sam moved in Dean's arms, "D'n?"

"Right here, kiddo. We're at Bobby's."

Sam's turned his head enough to see John, "D'd?"

"Sammy," John sighed, affection for his youngest pouring through him, "Good to see in one piece."

Sam blinked at him uncomprehendingly.

Dean made to go up the stairs, "He's really feverish, Dad, he's not aware of what's going on. And I _really _don't want to drop him."

"Of course, go ahead." The last thing John wanted to do is keep Dean from what he did best, "I'll be right behind you with blankets, water and a thermometer."

Dean didn't both to acknowledge his father, knowing John didn't need it. And Dean had no energy to spare.

As soon as he reached the guest bedroom that he and Sam had shared since they had first laid eyes on Bobby's old house, Dean collapsed. Sam landed on the bed gently, but Dean's knees hit the ground hard enough to bruise.

"You alright, Dean?" Bobby asked, carrying enough blankets to warm an army.

"Jus' tired, Bobby." Dean began stripping Sam of his clothes methodically, thinking only of sleep, but knowing he had to make sure Sam was okay first.

Bobby clapped a hand on Dean's shoulder, "You did good tonight, boy. Even if you are an idjit."

"Thanks." Dean glanced at the older man, "Where's Dad?"

"Think he's trying to find the medkit."

Dean flashed back to pushing it out of the way to set Sam down in the Impala, "Tell 'im to try the front seat."

Bobby nodded, leaving the brothers alone.

Dean sighed, "You're not gonna like this, Sammy." Dean had to pull the younger boy into sitting position, which Sam didn't react to.

Dean frowned, noticing that, underneath the flush of the fever, Sam was incredibly pale. His skin was still damp and slightly chilly from the river water, and his breathing was rough and painful.

Dean tried to think back to how else Sam might be injured. His lower half didn't have many noteworthy bruises; just those that one might accumulate from falling down a lot.

His questions were answered when he pulled off Sammy's shirt, and was met by a collage of purple and blue.

"What the hell?" Dean muttered, eyes widening as he realized what had happened.

_…The Hishollo lost patience and tackled Sam…_

Sam had given no indication of pain, and Dean wondered if he was tired enough to not notice, or if something was seriously wrong with his little brother.

Dean pressed lightly in the key spots, finding that while Sam might have some bruised ribs, only one seemed fractured in any way. And Sam was shuddering as Dean pressed down, which was relieving in that at least this meant Sam could feel it.

Dean quickly finished wrapping Sam in the blankets Bobby had brought, just as John appeared in the doorway, "Found the medkit, and your spare clothes."

Dean had forgotten that he had left a duffle here yesterday, when everything was still normal.

"Thanks, Dad." Dean said quietly, and John sat on the bed that wasn't being occupied, "How is he?"

"Fine. We're in for a hell of a week, but nothing we can't handle." Dean began changing, now that Sam was bundled up warmly.

John sighed as he heard Dean speak as if he and Sammy were a dual package—which they were, in a way—though he wasn't sure if it was from longing or appreciation of Dean's unending devotion to his brother.

"Bobby's offered to run to the store if you two need anything." John said, averting his eyes as his eldest stripped out of his damp clothes.

"Just some Gatorade, lots of aspirin, and some soup." Dean listed, "I don't think this kid ate much the past week."

John didn't know what to say to that. He hadn't been around Sam much this past week to know, and he didn't know how Dean could tell so easily.

They sat in silence for a few minutes as Dean threw both his and Sam's dirty clothing into a different bag, deciding to leave them for much later.

"He's in good hands here. Holler if you need anything." John said at last, standing, "We'll stick around as long as he needs."

"Sounds good," Dean said, back to his father as he leaned over the medkit, not willing to deal with his father's guilt complex right now.

The first thing that Dean did was take Sam's temp, fearing what the thermometer would read.

103.5.

"Not bad, kiddo. You're going to be miserable either way, so I'm glad you chose the less dangerous side of that." Dean said, more to fill the silence than anything, "Dad and Bobby are relieved to see you, you know. Hell, I'm glad we're just all back in relatively one piece."

Despite the noise, Sam remained unaware of the world, barely shifting when Dean finally decided he could lay next to him.

Dean knew that, normally, he wouldn't _dream_ of sharing a bed with Sammy, who was a notorious cover hog even with his small size. Not to mention the night terrors that kept him every night, or the restless insomnia that often plagued the youngest Winchester, made it nearly impossible for one to share a room with him, let alone a tiny bed.

But this wasn't a normal night, and Dean couldn't bear to let go of Sam even to get a good night's sleep.

He would rather be awake all night than take his eyes off Sam's long chestnut hair, or else he'd be the one having the nightmares.

And with the knowledge that John and Bobby were nearby if need be, Dean followed Sam into sleep, a small peaceful smile on both their faces.

All they had was each other, after all.

**Ahhh! It's all over! Or is it? **

**I'm thinking about posting a sequel about the whole aftereffects and all that jazz. It probably won't be posted right away because I don't post stories unless they are one hundred percent finished, even if they aren't edited. So if you guys want one, just let me know in a review! And then I'll get started right away! :D **

**So, thanks!**

**And, one more thing! I'm starting a one shot series with hurt!Sam, because who doesn't love a little injured Sammy and protective Dean? So if you have any ideas, shoot them at me! I'm game for most anything :P **


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